peculiarities," first of her husband, then
of her son.

Sophy felt that all argument would be quite useless.

"I don't think Morris will mind at all," she said, in another voice.
"It's always gay and pleasant having a beautiful debutante in one's
house. It will make me really feel the 'young matron' that our journals
call me. Have you any photos of Belinda since last year? She was very
handsome then. She must be still prettier now."

"Eleanor sent me one taken of them together, about two weeks ago. It's
there--in my writing-table. The left-hand upper drawer...."

Sophy found the photograph, and took it to the window. Mrs. Horton was
seated, with Belinda standing just behind her. The photo showed how tall
the girl was--as tall as herself, Sophy thought she must be. And it gave
also the buoyant pose of her head, and fine athletic shoulders. But no
photograph could even indicate Belinda's extraordinary colouring or the
vivid mobility of her expression--and her beauty was largely a matter of
colouring and expression. Still, Sophy thought her very handsome
indeed.

When she told Morris that evening about her idea of having Belinda stop
with them in Newport, he looked startled at first, then glum. The fact
was, the memory of that kiss of two years ago "upset" him (as he would
have expressed it) whenever it was recalled to his mind. He had always
thought Belinda "a bit cracked." One never knew what she was going to
say or do next. The prospect of Belinda established upon his hearthstone
did not at all appeal to him.

"Oh, Lord! Why the devil did my mother have to choose the Newport season
for a spell of rheumatics?" he said crossly.

Sophy looked at him with real curiosity in her eyes. Then a desire which
she had long felt and often repressed got the better of her.

"Morris," she said, "has it ever occurred to you that you are very
selfish to your mother?"

"_I?_.... _Selfish_ ... to my _mother_?"

"Yes."

"'_Selfish_'?"

"Yes, really."

Loring exhaled a long breath.

"Well, I like that!" he remarked at last. "You do have the queerest
notions, Goddess. It seems to me I've done nothing for years but hike
down here to this rotten old place, just when I wanted to be doing
something else ... merely to please my mother--and now you calmly
suggest that I'm selfish to her!"

"And how long do you stay?"

"Why, you know as well as I do. A fortnight. A great deal longer than I
_like_ staying, I can assure you!"